Last week was a rough training week.
I felt as though I had made great strides running and on the bike the mid-week of May. I still felt that way Tuesday and Saturday of last week as I was swimming with more ease (may be that was just the rush of the new goggles). And then came a team training session for running and a bike ride with the HB over the weekend.
I have never looked forward to a break after a race. My first season was go, go, go. This year – start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, stop, stop. Today, I can honestly say I am looking forward to minor surgery so I have a reason to be off my feet for 2 weeks and I can start over as I train for TriRock. As I type that sentence, I can’t help but think to myself, something has got to change. I shouldn’t feel like this. I enjoy training with the girls, I can’t wait to be outside and in the water, I LOVE the adrenaline rush of tri’s – what the heck am I saying I want a break!?!?!?! As I sit here and stew on all that, it slowly occurs to me that what I really need is a reset. I need to start over, get back to basics, and gear up for my A race. So that 2 weeks I’ll be off my feet – Reset!
It started when I went for a run early last week and made it over 2.5 miles. I felt great! I was running just under 10 minute miles and I was able to go farther than I had all session. This was a good sign, it meant I could probably slog through the last few .10ths of a mile on race day to get to 3 miles. So while I won’t be improving my time at least I won’t be walking. Then I went to team training on Thursday.
The Linear Park – Courtesy of VisitFlorida
First, training was a 6pm. Which in good ol’ FLA is blazing hot. As I sat there with my long sleeve UPF shirt on (I’m still hating against the sun) all I could think was Ugh! There is not enough water in the world to combat this heat! Second, training was supposed to be 8X30 intervals. Something I have been advised not to do until I got my 3 mile base down. So I asked the coaches what to do – they said Sure! Why not! Go for it! So I did – with gusto.
I started my warm up run at about 9:30m miles trying to keep up with Coach Pat. I made it through the whole 2 mile warm up at that pace but looked pretty sh!#&y at the end of it. So, I asked again if I should do the intervals. They said – Try it, just 3 and we’ll do 1 minute cool downs. So I did. By the end of the second I could feel my form was crap and according to Coach Pat my leg didn’t look like it belong to my body – great! That’s how I started Physical Therapy in December. Grumble, grumble, grumble. I didn’t do the last two intervals. I practically crawled to the car to head home. Thankfully the HB had Bells out at the dog park so I could hobble around the house in peace and take a ridiculously long shower while feeling down about the whole situation.
I took Friday off, my mind and body weren’t going to cooperate anyway. Saturday I hit the pool and made some great progress. At least I know I am ready for the swim.
Sunday, the HB and I were in Venice, FL for a wedding so we brought the bikes and went for a ride in a new locale. The hotel we were staying at was out near the interstate so we took Venice St in, made the loop around the Esplanade, and went all the way down to Caspersen Beach before turning around to do it all again.
The view from the bridge heading into the historic district
It was not an easy ride for me. I woke up with numbness in my left leg (which has occurred on and off since I was in a car accident 12 years ago) and no matter how much I stretched it wouldn’t completely disappear. As a result it took me forever to warm up. I should have been flying down Venice St to the Esplanade with the wind at my back. And as I climbed up the little bridge I was supposed to be walking my bike over to get to the City (Ooops)
Venice Street heading into the historic district (don’t mind the windshield)
Unfortunately I was not. I felt like I just couldn’t find a rhythm. It got worse as I rounded the corner to head south to Caspersen Beach the wind smacked me in the face. The HB let me lead for most of the ride – he knows I like to fight the wind in preparation for race day. As I passed Sharky’s, I desperately wanted to stop and check it out, just for an excuse to be off the bike. I didn’t. I carried on in front until the turn around. As we headed back to the hotel, the HB couldn’t handle the 12 mph I was riding into the wind. So he flew in front of me and promptly sped up to a whole 13 mph….it was damn windy I tell you.
The Pier at Sharky’s
By the time we got back to the hotel I’d had enough. I was definitely ready to be off the bike, in the shower and getting ready to go to the beach. This was not the feeling I was hoping for as race day approaches.